


Buyer's Remorse

by jeannedarc



Category: VIXX
Genre: M/M, hakyeon in a dress, yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 15:01:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5789944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeannedarc/pseuds/jeannedarc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hakyeon is in love the moment he sees it on the rack. The only trouble will be convincing himself to buy it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buyer's Remorse

**Author's Note:**

> i hate riley. riley ruined my fucking life. taken from a prompt i found on twitter (i think but i'm not horribly sure i remember).

It looks so good on the rack -- pale aqua with gold sparkles and light coral detailing around the waist. The skirt billows out just enough to show hips where they would be, and the zipper, sewn into the side, isn’t even visible until one takes apart the seams to show it’s there. Hakyeon falls in love with it almost immediately; only after deeply considering the possibilities does he really decide he wants it.

A glance over his shoulder tells him that his boyfriend and shopping companion, Jaehwan, has wandered away from him, and with that guilty conscience of his he sneaks the dress in between the layers of other clothes he’s already picked out, holding onto the curved handles of the hangers with fingers so tight it turns his knuckles pale.

The dress is a treat -- something he’s been wanting for awhile but never worked up the courage to buy. Even though it’s something of a normalised thing back at the dorm, something expected of him at this point he doesn’t want to make it an event that occurs every day. He just...wants to feel pretty tonight, is all. Already as he's fingering the material of the dress’ sleeve he's imagining a bath scented with jasmine and lavender, a nice shave, makeup and a curling iron for that wig he took from set awhile back, that pair of heels he'd bought on one of their Japanese excursions but never had the chance to wear…

In short, a night for himself, being beautiful. And maybe, if he's lucky, Jaehwan will get to enjoy it too.

He glances around again for his boyfriend but, seeing neither hide nor hair of the younger man, decides that it's not meant to be anything but a surprise. All the better, Hakyeon supposes, making his way to the dressing rooms nestled in the back corner of the shop.

The attendant there counts his garments, smirking when she comes across the dress hidden by pencil jeans and black sweaters. She doesn't say anything, just hands him the tag he's meant to hang on the outside of his door and sends him on his way. He bows in thanks, turns the mirrored corner and takes the room furthest back, hanging his numbered placard on the hook to the left of the door before letting himself inside.

He hangs his garments on the rack inside the door, sets to work undressing, kicking off his sneakers and accidentally sending one flying across the room. He's careful not to look in the mirror at his figure as he wriggles out of jeans he'd taken five whole minutes to fit into before leaving the dorm this morning. The pants puddle at his feet and he kicks them away, proceeding to shimmy out of his long-sleeved t-shirt. 

With a somewhat heavy heart he tries on his masculine garb first, sweaters paired with jeans, all looking fine enough but not to the same satisfaction the dress would bring him. The whole time he's wondering about the dress - how the colours will look against his skin, how the cut of the dress will flatter his figure. The inevitable thought comes to him -- ‘will Jaehwan like it?’ -- but even if his boyfriend decides it's a trash heap it doesn't matter. Hakyeon will do it just for the ritual of feeling pretty. 

That being said, he drudges through trying on his menswear, takes selcas wearing them -- his own personal filing system, so he doesn't have to waste time trying on everything when he can't decide what to wear. He moves with deliberate care, holding off the eventual end that is the dress, hidden beneath dark layers of fabric and waiting to be unveiled. He can't wait to try it on, which is why he's delaying it the way he is. (Waiting for pleasure is something he's learned recently, thanks to Jaehwan’s patient tutelage in the recent months.) 

When at long last he's finished with his wintertime clothes Hakyeon hangs up everything and makes his way across the tiny room, reaching out and taking the hem of the dress between his trembling fingers. He's so in love that at this point his only prayer is that it fits, and he whispers his plea as he admires the play of the dim dressing room light against the gold flecks in the fabric.

It's beautiful, and he will look beautiful in it. He's sure of it.

He slides the zipper down the side, parting the fabric, letting the shoulders slip from the hanger. He takes the material in his hands, gazing it up and down, eyes wide in delight.

Then he steps into the dress, the hem almost hung low enough to brush the ground, and slowly zips it up. It fits, although it's tight around his hips and chest, and he'd been right -- the colours look amazing on him. He takes a sashaying step toward the mirror, finally content to see his own reflection. The neckline, square, does little to hide how flat-chested he is, and he perks, albeit a little reluctantly, at the idea of having to put on that accursed padded bra in order to look shapely. He's forced to concede, though, that he would look so good in this dress that he might actually wear it more than once.

It's a fight not to take a photo of himself, but the risk of his phone getting hacked at some point during his career is too great, and he’d hate to cause a scandal that way, through something easily prevented.

With a sigh that demonstrates his unwillingness to de-prettify himself, Hakyeon unzips the dress, starts to shrug it off over his head, not wanting to let it even so much as begin to touch the ground. Except the material catches taut on his shoulders, and he swears he hears a seam pop, and --

Shit. The dress is stuck around his middle, the majority of it over his head with his arms protruding from the skirt, and he’s bent over at the waist, still trying to wiggle out of it to no avail.

He wants to call out to the attendant, but only for a split second before quelling the urge inside himself; he’s already caused enough trouble for himself and she seemed to be silent before, nevermind now, when she’ll be helping him out of a dress he shouldn’t even be wearing. He’d hate to bring more misfortune down upon his own head.

If only Jaehwan had followed him into the dressing room rather than wandering off to do...whatever it is Jaehwan does in department stores when he’s not with Hakyeon.

As if on cue, Hakyeon hears footsteps padding the floor outside his dressing room. “Jaehwan?” he mumbles, feeble, discouraged, and most of all, afraid. “Jaehwan, is that you? Please come in, I need your help.”

There’s a beat of silence that causes Hakyeon to doubt himself, and then a laugh that can only belong to his boyfriend. “Help?” he asks, obviously skeptical even though Hakyeon can’t see his face, the quirk of a brow, the hint of a smirk sure to be playing at the corner of his mouth. “What’ve you got yourself stuck in, hyung?” Hakyeon kind of hates him a little, if only because he sounds so confident for someone who’s on the outside of a situation.

“Okay, if I unlock this door,” Hakyeon starts, dangerously close to losing it if his voice is any indication, “you can’t laugh at me. And you can’t make fun of me. And you definitely can’t tell anyone about this later. I mean it as your leader and as your hyung and as your boyfriend. Do you understand?”

Jaehwan hums his understanding and waits, quiet.

Hobbling over to the door, Hakyeon tries his best to unlatch it, which is more of a struggle than he first anticipated considering his hands are practically bound over his head. He attempts to make his way backwards before the door swings open, but it catches him at the wrist anyway, and the impact is enough to send him even more off-kilter than he already is; he ends up collapsed in a heap of tangled limbs and fabric on the dressing room floor, peering up a tunnel of light to catch Jaehwan’s eye.

Of course, Jaehwan has never been a good listener, and he bursts into a fit of giggles as soon as the door is closed behind him. “You really are stuck,” he declares between gasps for air. Hakyeon scowls, buries his face in his arm as best he can. “C’mon, let me help you up.” He does, without much ado, tugging the hem of Hakyeon’s skirt back down over his hips.

Hakyeon, of course, goes to thank him -- he’s not rude, after all -- but then he catches a glimpse of the expression on Jaehwan’s face, turns bright red, says, “No.”

“But hyung,” Jaehwan whines, backing the pair of them up against the wall with a few advancing steps. The wall is cold against Hakyeon’s shoulderblades, left exposed by the cut of the dress in the back, and it causes him to shiver. “Hyung, we’re already here. What’s the harm in it?”

And any protestation Hakyeon has dies in his throat at the eager look on Jaehwan’s face, the blush painting his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears. “You’re sure about this?” he asks, head tilted, keenly aware of the snugness of the dress sitting on his hips.

“Of course I am,” Jaehwan scoffs, looking all arrogant, the way he does whenever he’s teasing. Then he puts on his brightest grin, the one used to throw people off or, in this case, placate his boyfriend. “Don’t be afraid, hyung, I’ll take care of you.” He puts his hands to Hakyeon’s slim waist, thumbing over the material of the dress resting tight against his skin, sending chills up Hakyeon’s spine.

Hakyeon bites down on his lower lip, looking up at Jaehwan’s face from beneath heavy-lidded eyes. Then Jaehwan claims his mouth in a kiss, hands snaking up to cup the sides of his neck, thumbs tracing the thrum of his pulse beneath his skin. Jaehwan’s body is pressed against Hakyeon’s, rustling the fabric of his skirt, hiking it up just slightly and exposing his thighs to the open air. He shivers again, nipping needily at Jaehwan’s full lower lip, tugging it between his own. Their tongues touch, tentatively at first -- even after months, years of being together, of doing this, they’re still a little scared to admit they like the feel of one another’s mouths -- but then twining together. Hakyeon’s hand goes up to the back of Jaehwan’s neck, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck briefly before scratching harshly down his spine.

Jaehwan moans into Hakyeon’s mouth, and it’s pretty much all downhill from there, his plush mouth dragging against the long, long column of Hakyeon’s throat, pressing messily into the hollow just above his collarbone. His hands fumble, reaching a few times before successfully grabbing onto the hem of Hakyeon’s dress, pulling it even further up his hips. A seam might pop, maybe it doesn’t, maybe it’s just Hakyeon’s worst imaginings at work. But suddenly the air is kissing his inner thighs, and combined with Jaehwan’s touch, it’s enough to practically drop him to his knees. He clutches the wall with all his might, tries to keep himself upright, more for the sake of posterity than a need for balance. Can’t have Jaehwan thinking he’s the king of dick touches, after all.

When Jaehwan drops to his knees, all the breath rushes from Hakyeon’s lungs, and immediately he cards his fingers through his boyfriend’s locks, tousling them, looking down his nose at the sight before him. Without any hesitation -- none of the brand from before, anyway; Jaehwan might not be the king of the dick touches but he’s definitely the king of the teases -- he yanks Hakyeon’s underwear down, pooling them at the elder’s ankles and diving in, hands at his inner thighs, spreading him just so. His nose grazes the length of Hakyeon’s cock, sending a shudder throughout Hakyeon’s whole body, and even that’s enough to get him all excited, but then Jaehwan mumbles, breath warm against Hakyeon’s twitching dick --

“You look so beautiful like this. All dressed up. You’re so pretty, hyung.”

Damn that man, Hakyeon thinks, biting down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, he always knows just what to say.

It’s a quick and messy affair, truth be told -- they feel the crunch for time, weighing heavy upon them, and Jaehwan would love nothing more than to tease Hakyeon into submission but there’s a waiting public outside, albeit only that of a bored dressing room attendant, and they can’t take up too many moments in here. So Jaehwan is quick to wrap his lips around the head of Hakyeon’s growing erection, giving him a tantalising sort of suck, before hollowing his cheeks and taking in his boyfriend’s cock, slow, inch by inch.

Hakyeon grunts out a couple swears, fingers tightening in Jaehwan’s hair, tugging his head this way and that, changing the angle at which the head of his cock brushes the back of Jaehwan’s throat. Jaehwan, of course, is all too happy to oblige, ever the obedient and pliant boyfriend Hakyeon’s always wanted. His nails cut into the younger’s scalp, carefully at first, but with more reckless abandon the further Jaehwan takes him in. The warmth wrapped around the length of his dick is more than enough to drive him crazy, his knees weak, but then Jaehwan takes it a step further, tongue sliding along the vein along the underside of Hakyeon’s cock. 

“Fuck, Jaehwan, please,” and it comes out more a broken whimper than a real plea for Jaehwan not to tease him, but it works all the same. Jaehwan starts to bob his head between Hakyeon’s thighs, careful, measured strokes of his tongue accompanying every movement of his lips, the thready brush of the insides of his cheeks against Hakyeon’s length --

Already the familiar coil of pleasure is building in Hakyeon’s gut. Just a little more and he’ll be there, and truthfully? The idea of yanking Jaehwan back by the hair just in time to cum all over his face is enough to make Hakyeon that much harder. 

Still, Jaehwan toils away, the lower half of his face covered by the hem of Hakyeon’s skirt, head bobbing away steadily on Hakyeon’s cock. Hakyeon stutters out something about being near to cumming; Jaehwan hums in response, and Hakyeon nearly blows it right then and there, the vibrations of the noise working its way through every part of him. When the head of Hakyeon’s cock brushes against the tight ring of muscle in Jaehwan’s throat -- well, that combined with Jaehwan’s nose brushing against the tight coils of hair at the base of Hakyeon’s cock is simply too much for him to take. 

So he does exactly as he’s planned, pulls Jaehwan off his cock with a loud pop, and uses his free hand to stroke himself to completion. When he cums in thick, sticky ropes, the pearlescent substance trails down Jaehwan’s face, across his cheekbones, over his thick lips.

It’s difficult for Hakyeon not to get hard again. Thank God for the refractory period, he mumbles as he lifts his dress even higher up his thighs, not wanting to stain it.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jaehwan mutters, licking his lips clean with a smirk, “you’re definitely buying that.”

“I am?” Hakyeon looks up from the mess that is his boyfriend’s face, eyes wide. “Since when?”

“Since I decided I want to fuck you in it.”

It’s reason enough.

“You have anything to clean up with?” Jaehwan asks with a smirk, and Hakyeon doesn’t, so in a wild panic he grabs at one of the sweaters he’d tried on earlier.

Guess he’s buying that too.


End file.
